I like this analogy. First, because it acknowledges the possibility that some people will prefer rice or noodles even after they've had a chance to experience good bread. And second, because that is exactly how some anti-city people seem to me - they sound like they have never experienced any of the good things about living in a city. And hey, fine if you don't want to try it - I'm not going to make you try tasting the bread if you don't want to - but then don't think you are qualified to have an opinion about it.
This is just as much a way of thinking about the anti-suburbanism that seems to prevail here on Substack, a fully reversible analogy.
The other evening Gwen and I were watching the little kids on the ice in the town park, hearing the hockey sticks clatter and the laughter. Our backs were turned to the north wind and the playing field on which, if it were April. there might have been 300-400 people playing ultimate or soccer, while there was a pick-up game of hoops on the court that is now flooded for skating. Beyond the fields is the brook, with its active beaver colony and trail winding through to the dozens of homes from which people can walk to the park or on through it to the school, library, and town offices. There's even a band shell for summer evening concerts.
So I ask, why is it that city people who've seen a couple of stereotypical suburbs (ticky tacky, as per the old Pete Seeger song, and they certainly do exist, just as do severely dysfunctional cities) think they're all the same? Isn't that just as fair a use of your analogy?
What your analogy doesn't capture, I think, is evolution. Moldy bread just continues to deteriorate. Cities and suburbs are able change in positive ways. Our town was much closer to being the stereotypical suburb 20 years ago than it is now. Wise investments in open space acquisition and thoughtful zoning have conributed to a continuing transfomation.
Nothing against the analogy, and I've had conversations like this many times with my city-skeptical friends. But honestly, the single most tricky thing about urbanism for me is that while many of the problems American cities face are contingent, that's not even close to saying they won't quickly backslide even if one day we solve them.
Like, suppose your suburb fan points to several issues with cities: petty crime is out of control, a fraction of the homeless population makes her feel genuinely unsafe, it's dirty, and it's too expensive to raise a family. You could start a conversation where one by one you show her how these are not necessary features of cities but contingent ones. Cities can be policed more effectively, but for political reasons they aren't. Homeless encampments were a judicial imposition that are now being undone. Trash piling up on the sidewalks is a recent thing and down to simple mismanagement. And yes, it's expensive, but believe me we're trying to fix that.
Okay, she says, I'm convinced. In five years all these problems *could* be fixed. And suppose I find a nice larger apartment and I do start a family. Now what do I do when these problems rear their head in just a few years? When my rent starts spiking because they found a way to block new housing, and the new DA lets petty crime go out of control again? Do I wait another five years for the public to become fed up? Or will it be 10 years this time, or 20?
I'm not sure variance from year to year has to be so high, either--that could be contingent, too, but on deeper factors. I had the same thought reading Jane Jacobs' book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, where on the one hand the traditional urban form solves a lot of problems, like keeping the streets clean and orderly. But she also, and inadvertently, I think, portrays them as very fragile. Seemingly any and every well-meaning intervention destroyed them, like it was some delicate balance. But surely this isn't so? Cities must be more resilient than that, or they would always be on the verge of collapse. But Jacobs identified no "anti-fragile" elements.
To be honest, looking at the efforts of a lot of YIMBYs and urbanists, their efforts feel the same way. Doing away with exclusionary zoning is great, but one bad referendum could undo all your efforts and then some. Yes, you're building a movement, and maybe it endures enough to build a durable majority--but it can also inspire serious backlash, and on many issues politics is indeed thermostatic. So what can urbanists do that is likely to be resilient?
The moldy bread trope is just an instance of attribution fallacy. OTOH, if you do live in a household where your bread turns moldy, it would not be attribution fallacy within this hypothetical to claim that mold is a characteristic of bread in your household.
I'm guilty of applying this logic to urbanists. The urbanists here are all about CLIMATE. They make life harder for walkers and bicyclists, and make life more expensive for people who just want to keep and maintain old houses. Those three categories should be considered "environmental" and sustainable.
I'm sure urbanists in other places must be more reasonable, but I can only base my feelings on what I see and experience in my own life.
I like this analogy. First, because it acknowledges the possibility that some people will prefer rice or noodles even after they've had a chance to experience good bread. And second, because that is exactly how some anti-city people seem to me - they sound like they have never experienced any of the good things about living in a city. And hey, fine if you don't want to try it - I'm not going to make you try tasting the bread if you don't want to - but then don't think you are qualified to have an opinion about it.
This is just as much a way of thinking about the anti-suburbanism that seems to prevail here on Substack, a fully reversible analogy.
The other evening Gwen and I were watching the little kids on the ice in the town park, hearing the hockey sticks clatter and the laughter. Our backs were turned to the north wind and the playing field on which, if it were April. there might have been 300-400 people playing ultimate or soccer, while there was a pick-up game of hoops on the court that is now flooded for skating. Beyond the fields is the brook, with its active beaver colony and trail winding through to the dozens of homes from which people can walk to the park or on through it to the school, library, and town offices. There's even a band shell for summer evening concerts.
So I ask, why is it that city people who've seen a couple of stereotypical suburbs (ticky tacky, as per the old Pete Seeger song, and they certainly do exist, just as do severely dysfunctional cities) think they're all the same? Isn't that just as fair a use of your analogy?
What your analogy doesn't capture, I think, is evolution. Moldy bread just continues to deteriorate. Cities and suburbs are able change in positive ways. Our town was much closer to being the stereotypical suburb 20 years ago than it is now. Wise investments in open space acquisition and thoughtful zoning have conributed to a continuing transfomation.
Nothing against the analogy, and I've had conversations like this many times with my city-skeptical friends. But honestly, the single most tricky thing about urbanism for me is that while many of the problems American cities face are contingent, that's not even close to saying they won't quickly backslide even if one day we solve them.
Like, suppose your suburb fan points to several issues with cities: petty crime is out of control, a fraction of the homeless population makes her feel genuinely unsafe, it's dirty, and it's too expensive to raise a family. You could start a conversation where one by one you show her how these are not necessary features of cities but contingent ones. Cities can be policed more effectively, but for political reasons they aren't. Homeless encampments were a judicial imposition that are now being undone. Trash piling up on the sidewalks is a recent thing and down to simple mismanagement. And yes, it's expensive, but believe me we're trying to fix that.
Okay, she says, I'm convinced. In five years all these problems *could* be fixed. And suppose I find a nice larger apartment and I do start a family. Now what do I do when these problems rear their head in just a few years? When my rent starts spiking because they found a way to block new housing, and the new DA lets petty crime go out of control again? Do I wait another five years for the public to become fed up? Or will it be 10 years this time, or 20?
I'm not sure variance from year to year has to be so high, either--that could be contingent, too, but on deeper factors. I had the same thought reading Jane Jacobs' book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, where on the one hand the traditional urban form solves a lot of problems, like keeping the streets clean and orderly. But she also, and inadvertently, I think, portrays them as very fragile. Seemingly any and every well-meaning intervention destroyed them, like it was some delicate balance. But surely this isn't so? Cities must be more resilient than that, or they would always be on the verge of collapse. But Jacobs identified no "anti-fragile" elements.
To be honest, looking at the efforts of a lot of YIMBYs and urbanists, their efforts feel the same way. Doing away with exclusionary zoning is great, but one bad referendum could undo all your efforts and then some. Yes, you're building a movement, and maybe it endures enough to build a durable majority--but it can also inspire serious backlash, and on many issues politics is indeed thermostatic. So what can urbanists do that is likely to be resilient?
The moldy bread trope is just an instance of attribution fallacy. OTOH, if you do live in a household where your bread turns moldy, it would not be attribution fallacy within this hypothetical to claim that mold is a characteristic of bread in your household.
I'm guilty of applying this logic to urbanists. The urbanists here are all about CLIMATE. They make life harder for walkers and bicyclists, and make life more expensive for people who just want to keep and maintain old houses. Those three categories should be considered "environmental" and sustainable.
I'm sure urbanists in other places must be more reasonable, but I can only base my feelings on what I see and experience in my own life.